First I should say something, I am a horrible person. Two reasons, 1. This story is really just a place to store a fic Idea so if you don't want to want a reaaaally long time in-between updates don't read it. 2. I am supposed to be writing for my other story Grex, so I apologize for that as well.

Now with this story,

I was unsure about whether or not to make this a crossover (because it technically is) or to leave it in this category. So oops :D

I don't own any of the origanal plots from the things I am taking from. I'm also not writing this again.

John Reborn

I began my lives as Harry Potter, abused Savior of the Wizarding World; it was in this life that I acquired the curse 'Master of Death'. I lived a good full life, married Ginny my longtime girl-friend directly after our war. We had three wonderful children. I died the day after Ginny at the age of 143.

My magical control as Harriet Black-Potter was zilch. I couldn't even hold on to a wand properly, or at least not without my core trying to destroy it. As such I failed even class except Potions and DADA. (Snape was trilled). In my fifth year at Hogwarts I was lured to the Department of Mysteries under the pretense that was God-Father was there. That night I ended up destroying even god forsaken prophesy in the Ministry after Bellatrix killed him. Needless to say she lives no more. In my seventh year I was abandoned by my school-mates and spent every moment in the Library trying to find the reason my core malfunction. Granger was ignoring my existence as was Weasley. In fact the only person to not find my presence intolerable was my Luna. (And Snape surprisingly.)

At the end of the year Riddle attacked the school. He had sent his Eaters of Death to kill the student population, but unfortunately for him the moment he stepped on Hogwarts grounds he was vaporized (oops).

I died a quick painless (ish) death in a small town in Sweden a year into my lonely hermitage after the Battle of Hogwarts. An Eater of Death sniped me in the back; I turned his heart to stone. Sounds even to me. J

Life as Tony Stark was painful, practically abandoned by my parents, brought up by the man who later betrayed me, and I later discovered had killed my parents. I was continually fighting for causes no one really believed in my entire life. I married Pepper, never had the time to have kids (wouldn't have known what to do with 'em anyhow). All of the members of my team were either dead or no longer wanting to fight by the time I started getting Dementia. Pepper died soon after I forgot her. Rodey one of my only friends in the universe pulled my life-support, (crying) after my lung collapsed.

I was Sargent Grey Wemp stationed in Afghanistan. I was a military brat, raised to serve my country. I was 24 when I met Mr. stark the man who's weapons had saved my father and brother, not to mention the genius who's gun design I am holding. I died shot in the heart 27 minutes later protecting this man.

As Bruce Wayne my story was... shit. Parents shot in front of me. Tried my hand at revenge, got there 30 seconds too late to kill the man. I trained with a man I grew to view as my father, only to betray and be betrayed after learning his true goals. I served as Batman protector of Gotham and eventually the world until my death as Bruce Wayne by Joker who was taunting Batman to come out of hiding. (And he wondered why I was smiling)

I was Alice Pleasance. I worked with (my friend) Jervis Tetch in Nano-Neuro-Technology until he was driven insane. I died at 23 years old, assaulted and killed by the Mad-Hatter.

John Watson was an average and unfortunately dull creature for the majority of my life. My father was an alcoholic who beat both me and my sister Harry. We each had different coping methods, she turned to drink and I went away to the military. 'Captain' Watson I was. I was shot while securing a man's leg that had been blown off. Sent home, unable to serve, I met Sherlock Holmes. He was an oddball who solved violent crimes for fun. He jumped off a roof after the world accused him of being a fake. Sherlock was my only friend. I killed myself on his grave.

All these lives were separate, unconnected without remembering each-other.

I am Clary Watson, I remember every birth, every death, and every moment leading up to them. I am all of them, but none are me.